


February 26

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Pre-White House (West Wing)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-01
Updated: 2009-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-30 17:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15101435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of theWest Wing Fanfiction Central, a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in theannouncement post.





	February 26

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

I've never had a knack for remembering dates. I know the birthdays of the most important people in my life; I remember my parents' anniversary; and I'll never forget the date that Josh was shot in Rosslyn. However, I don't remember the dates of some life-changing moments. I know that I graduated from high school in May of '90; I lost my virginity over the holidays in '88; and I met Tim in the fall of '96. But there is one milestone that I'll never forget: February 26, 1998.

Making love to Josh was not a mind-blowing experience. I didn't tremble when he touched me. I didn't count the minutes before we became one. And I certainly didn't let him stay on top. This isn't to say that making love to him wasn't fantastic. It was. But it was exactly as I thought it would be: natural. 

We'd only known each other for a handful of days, but from the moment I met Josh, we had...something. Whether we were walking down a narrow corridor or talking about the latest polling data, there was a definite rhythm. We could've been talking about Japanese imports while handing each other files on British education. As Josh stuffed his backpack with massive files on advances in technology, I'd replace them with one page summaries. When he would gesticulate wildly and pace in his tiny office, I'd sit casually in the visitor's chair, listening to his latest rant. Everything with Josh was exhilarating. 

Then there was the physical component. I'd never met someone who could turn me on just by leaning against a wall or rolling up his shirt sleeves. I used to be attracted to the well-kept, preppy type. Josh was the antithesis of that. The messier his hair got, the more attractive I found him. The more wrinkled his shirt, the sexier he became. He could hold a pen in a way that was more erotic than a Chippendale dancer taking off his shirt. 

When we made love, it was an extension of our rhythm – a very natural yet extraordinary experience.

Unfortunately, it was a one-time affair that ended the day it began. We were campaigning for the presidency. Neither of us was willing to risk our careers (or the careers of those around us) for our personal feelings.

We never had sex again.

This isn't to say that February 26 went unnoticed during our eight years working for the President. Josh would have none of that. Yet he publicly celebrated our anniversary in April instead of February, sending me flowers to mark the day I returned to him. I admonished him the first time, but once he eventually explained his reasoning to me, I accepted flowers in April and secret meetings in February.

***  
I do not tan. Never have. As much sunblock or oil as I apply, I burn. I thought that because it was February, there was a chance that the sun wasn't as bright as it is during the summer months. After lying out for less than an hour, I found out that I was completely wrong. My arms and legs were a nice shade of pink, but my nose and cheeks were cherry red. The faith that I had in Clinique City Block vanished.

We'd just returned from Los Angeles, and my nose was peeling. I'd applied lotion to my face three times a day, but it wasn't enough to stop the peeling. It didn't bother me too much as I was still beaming after meeting David Hasselhoff and Matthew Perry. Josh, however, wasn't in the best mood. I was sad to learn that he caught Al Keiffer in Joey Lucas's hotel room. Really sad. He moped around for a couple of days, but part of me thinks it was just to get my attention. 

He wouldn't dare admit it, but Josh likes the whole "woe is me" routine. I typically give him 24 hours of sympathy, then I kick his sorry ass to the curb. Tough love, you see, is the best medicine.

I was prepared to do exactly that the morning of February 26, 2000. In fact, I'd prepared 22 note cards the night before on why it was better for Josh to leave Joey Lucas alone. I'd memorized all but two of the note cards when Josh breezed in at 7:30 a.m.

When he passes my desk in the morning, Josh usually says "hello" or "good morning" or "Donna, you have to help me with this research," which means that I actually need to do the research for him before his 8 o'clock meeting. 

But that morning, Josh didn't say a thing.

I rolled my chair back and watched him walk into his office. He hung up his coat, opened his backpack, then placed both hands on his desk. His head was down, but I could tell by the way his shoulders fell that he sighed. I rolled back to my desk and busied myself with my new pink Post-It notes. I wasn't about to enquire what was wrong that early in the day. I'd give him the morning to work it out. He'd eventually talk to me if there was a problem.

When I turned to put a file in the cabinet behind my desk, I noticed Josh in his doorway, staring at me. His hands were in his pockets, and his shoulders were slumped. He bent his index finger, signaling me to follow him.

I walked in his office, taking in a deep breath of Dial soap and aftershave.

"Should I grab my notepad?" I asked, hooking my thumb back.

Josh didn't answer. He walked around me and shut the door with a soft click. Usually when Josh closes the door, the staff in the East Wing can hear it.

I creased my forehead. "What's going on?"

He put his back against the door and returned his hands to his pockets. "It's the 26th," he whispered.

It took a few seconds for me to process the date. My cheeks got really hot, so I lowered my head to avoid Josh's glare. "You remembered."

"You didn't," he responded with raised eyebrows.

I shifted my weight. "It's not that I didn't remember, Josh. I just haven't looked at the--"

He silenced me with a finger in the air. Josh took three steps and stood directly in front of me. He lifted my hand and rubbed the underside of my wrist with his thumb.

"Josh." I bit my lower lip.

He pulled me closer, wrapping one arm around my waist; the other around my shoulder. I felt his breath on my neck and his strong hands on my back. I could barely breathe. I wasn't sure if it was because of how tightly he was holding me or the significance of the moment.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine. His eyes were shut. "I'll never forget that night, Donna."

I placed my hands on his cheeks. "Neither will I."

Josh smiled. 

I smiled back at him, knowing it was a bittersweet smile.

He released me and took a deep breath. He walked around his desk and opened a binder.

“What do I have this morning?" he asked.

"You have to talk to the vice-president about the Ethanol tax credit in ten minutes," I said.

He looked up. "I thought Leo took care of that?"

"Apparently not."

He sighed. "Ok, could you get me some coffee before my meeting?" He flipped a page in his binder.

I took a step closer to his desk. "This might be a monumental day, Joshua, but I still won't bring you coffee."

"A man can try," he said, grinning.

"Anything else?"

He plopped in his chair. "No. Thanks, Donna."

***  
On February 26, 2002, Josh was sidetracked by the Flenders' vote in Hartsfield's Landing, New Hampshire. He had me on the phone for half the night with Mackie and Roberta, while I'm sure he was receiving e-mails from their 20-year-old daughter, Jennifer. 

Josh and I had met Jennifer when we were campaigning in 1998. While Josh flirted to earn her vote, I ate Mrs. Flenders' homemade macaroni and cheese. There was nothing about Jennifer that made me jealous. Josh referred to her as "voluptuous," but in reality, she was plump. I could see why, considering the food her mother cooked.

It was bitter cold that night in 2002, so I borrowed Josh's coat to call the Flenders from outside the White House gates. His coat smelled like mint shampoo and leather. The weight of it reminded me of the way Josh felt on top of me four years earlier. I wore it all night, not wanting to let go of that feeling.

I'd left work that night just before 1 a.m., forgetting to give Josh his coat.

I walked into my toasty apartment and headed straight for the bedroom. I shed my shoes, socks, coat and suit along the way. Just as I was setting my alarm to wake me five hours later, the phone rang.

"I'm freezing, Donna."

I smiled at the familiar voice. "Is your heater broken?"

"I hope not."

"Check the switch on the side of the thing."

"I had to park two blocks away from my condo. I'm walking against the bitter wind as we speak." 

Funny, it wasn't windy when I left the office. "You aren't home yet?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

I walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth. "I don't know why you're so cold. Your coat's warm." I dabbed a bit of Aqua Fresh on my toothbrush.

"I wouldn't know." There was a bit of humor in his voice.

"Why's that?"

"Because you have my coat," he said in a sarcastic tone.

I swallowed a mouthful of toothpaste. "I'm so sorry, Josh. I forgot!"

"You're gonna make it up to me." I heard him climbing the steps to his condo.

"I am?"

"Damn right." The door slammed behind him.

"Maybe I can have the Flender girl make it up to you." I rinsed the remainder of the toothpaste out of my mouth.

"She'd be up for it." 

I could swear he was grinning.

"I'm sure she would," I said, folding my arms.

"She voted for us, you know."

"I thought the Flenders voted for Ritchie?" I put on my pajamas with my free hand. When I tried pulling up the pants, I dropped the phone. "Shit!"

"Donna?" I heard Josh's voice from the floor.

"Sorry, I was trying to put on my pajamas and I dropped the phone."

The other end of the line was silent.

"Josh?" I looked at the phone to see if I'd hung up on him. "Are you there?"

"I'm here," he responded a second later.

"What were you saying about Jennifer's vote?"

"Hmm?"

I heard his keys land on a hard surface.

"When I got off the phone with Mackie and Roberta, I was under the impression that they were voting for Ritchie. You're saying they changed their minds?"

"Donna, are you in pajamas?"

I paused. "Yeah, why?"

"No reason."

"Josh, tell me about the Flenders vote."

"Mom and Pop voted for Ritchie. Jennifer voted for us."

"One out of three isn't bad." I walked in the living room in search of Josh's coat.

"What color are they?" His voice got lower.

"Bright pink with little white starbursts. I'm not a fan of the top," I said, picking up his coat. "The v-neck is a little too low-cut."

Josh moaned.

"I have your coat. I'll bring it to you tomorrow." I fished through his pockets to see if I'd put my lipstick or cell phone in one. What I found was a small, white envelope. "What's this?"

"Hmm?"

"I found an envelope in your coat pocket." I turned it over in my hands.

"Don't open that!" he quickly replied.

I held it to the light. "There's no name on the front." I figured it must've been for Amy.

"I forgot it was in there."

I laid his coat on the back of my sofa and sat with the envelope in my hand. "I won't open it."

He didn't respond.

"Josh?"

He remained silent for a few more seconds. "It's for you," he whispered.

"For me?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah." I pictured him running a hand through his hair. "It was for, you know, today."

"Today?" I didn't want to misunderstand.

"Yeah." His voice was quiet.

"As in the big day in Hartsfield's Landing?"

"No."

"So it has nothing to do with the Flenders?"

"Donna!" 

I heard the leather of his sofa squeak.

"Oh, you mean today as in February 26th?"

"Yeah." He exhaled.

"This envelope has to do with that?"

"Yes."

"If it's for me, then why can't I open it?"

He took a deep breath. "Fine, but promise you won't get all girly on me."

I ripped the envelope open, and a small piece of textured, ivory paper slipped out. I read it aloud:

_Too often, I underestimate the effect you have on me._

_\- Joshua_

My eyes welled up with tears. "Josh."

"I told you not to get all girly," he said.

I smiled and read the sentence again. "I don't know what to say."

I pictured him clenching his jaw. "You do that to me, Donna."

I wanted him to be here with me. I wanted to throw my arms around him and bury my head in the crook of his neck. I wanted to feel his pulse on my lips and the scruffiness of his cheeks at the end of the day.

"I feel the same," I whispered.

"You might have to stand in line behind Jennifer Flender. She's got her sights on me." I could tell he was smirking.

"I'll wait if I must." I let out an exaggerated sigh.

"It's getting late," he said.

I didn't want to hang up, but I realized it was almost 2 a.m. "It is. Thank you for this, Josh."

"Good night, Donna."

"Good night."

I tucked the note under my pillow that night and slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

***  
I almost didn't go to work on February 26, 2003. For one thing, I was uncertain about the status of Josh and Amy. Their on again, off again relationship was more difficult to follow than when he was with Mandy. Josh never had a knack for firmly ending his relationships.

For 364 days of the year, I didn't worry about giving in to the temptation of being with Josh. Sure, there were times when I wanted to kiss him or, you know, take him right there on his desk. But I was too responsible and aware to make that happen. There was only one day when I couldn't make any promises about keeping my hands to myself: February 26.

I'd debated for weeks prior to that date in 2003 if I should schedule a hair appointment or go to Madison for the weekend. I hadn't been home in nearly a year, so it would've been a valid excuse. In the end, I decided to stay; after all, it was a Saturday. I could work for four or five hours, then tell Josh that I had plans.

When I arrived at work that morning, Josh was already there. He was always at work early on weekends, but 7:30 was early even for him.

"Morning, Donna." He must've heard me come in.

I took off my coat and turned. "Good morning." I feigned a smile.

Josh was wearing his standard Levis with an olive green long sleeve shirt. His white t-shirt peeked out at the collar. He was leaning against the doorframe with his legs crossed, which accented his button fly. My eyes were drawn just below his belt.

While I enjoyed the sight of Josh in casual clothes, I could feel his eyes roaming over me. He started at my feet, then worked his way up to my well-fitted jeans, then to my black sweater that was just revealing enough. With the right bra and the right sweater, any girl could have a little cleavage. The way Josh's eyes moved up my body felt like the sun rising. It peeks above the horizon, every second becoming bigger and brighter. When it finally stretches above the earth, the sun hangs low in the sky in all of its glory. When Josh's eyes made it to mine, I felt like the sunrise.

He stepped into my area.

"Where's Amy?" I asked. I don't know where that came from. I meant to ask him how he was doing or why he was at the office so early.

"I'm sure she'll be around later." He averted his eyes.

"I won't."

"You won't what?" he asked.

"I won't be around later. I'm having lunch with Stephanie." I stacked a few files on my desk.

Josh creased his forehead. "We have work to do, Donna. I need you to finish that environmental thing."

"It'll be done by noon," I said, finally sitting at my desk.

"What about the fossil fuel report?" he asked, stepping closer to me.

"I gave it to you last night, Josh." I rolled my chair to face him, and my eyes were level with his waist. I looked down and gulped.

Josh bent down so that our eyes were even. "You don't want to be here?"

I looked away.

"Today of all days?" he whispered.

"Josh." I lowered my head. 

He raised my chin with a finger.

"Donna." He put his hands on my thighs, not taking his eyes off mine.

I covered his hands, and he spread his fingers wide, allowing mine to fall between his. When my palms were flat against the back of Josh's hands, he squeezed.

"What a tender moment. I wish I had a camera." Amy entered the bullpen and leaned against the partition.

I jumped up. "Amy!"

Josh didn't move.

"Donna." She nodded at me. "What are you doing on the floor, J?" Her gaze switched to him.

"I was talking to Donna," he said, slowly standing.

I tucked my hair behind my ear. "I have work to do, so..."

"Why are you here?" Josh sounded aggravated.

"I brought muffins," she responded, holding up a brown bag. She waggled her eyebrows at him, then went into his office.

Josh looked at me with sad eyes, then touched my arm.

"The fossil fuel report is on your desk," I said in a low voice.

He clenched his jaw. "Thanks."

Amy only stayed for half an hour. I heard a heated exchange, then Amy walked out with a huff. Josh didn't come out of his office until at least an hour after that.

A little after noon, I finished the environmental stuff. "Done." I handed him the report.

"That was fast." He looked up from his reading.

"I'm nothing if not efficient." I crossed my arms. "I'm leaving, Josh. I'll see you on Monday."

When I turned to leave, he was on my heels. "You're not coming in tomorrow?"

"No."

"Why not?"

I shrugged. "I'm caught up. There's no reason for me to be here."

"I can find plenty of things for you to do, believe me." He chuckled.

I stopped short and faced him. "I don't want you to _find_ things for me to do, Josh. You think I enjoy spending my weekends at work?"

He didn't respond.

"I don't, Josh. In fact, I hate working on Sundays." I grabbed my coat and purse.

"This is sudden."

"It's really not." I tucked my hair behind my ear. "I've felt this way for a long time. I'm just choosing to tell you now."

He looked confused.

"I'll see you on Monday." I breezed past him and headed for the door.

I couldn't stand being in the same room as Josh and not being able to flirt with him on this, our one day of the year, when flirting --even touching -- was allowed.

When I got home, I dropped the five files I'd brought on my kitchen table. I'd never had plans with Stephanie, but I had left her a message. The phone rang, and I was sure it was her.

"You couldn't have called at a better time," I answered.

"You're not pissed at me?" came the male voice on the other end of the line.

"Josh?"

"Yeah?"

I sighed. "I thought you were Stephanie."

"Shouldn't you be having lunch with her right now?"

"I'm waiting for her call." I sat on the sofa with a huff. "What do you want?"

"Did you bring home the Wildlife and Fisheries file?" he asked.

"You're going to make me get up and check?"

"Are you in bed or something?"

"No, but I'd just gotten settled on the sofa." I walked to the kitchen table and rifled through the files. "Yeah, here it is."

"Open it."

"Josh, I'm not working right now. Can't I have one minute of..." I opened the file, and a page ripped from a day planner fell out.

"Donna?"

I turned the page over and silently read the words on the front. The date, February 26, was circled.

_Three more years, Donnatella._

_Love,  
Joshua_

He'd never signed anything with the word 'love.' This maddening, egotistical, self-involved man made me quiver.

"Donna?"

"I'm here," I whispered.

"CJ's gonna yell at me for defacing her day planner," he said.

I smiled. "That'd be my guess."

"Don't tell her it was me."

I silently read the note again. "Three more years, Joshua."

"Yeah." He sighed. "It's a helluva lot better than eight."

"It is."

My other line was beeping. "Josh, I have to go. I think Stephanie's beeping in."

"We'll have to get together soon."

"She'd like that," I responded. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Have a good weekend. And tell Steph 'hello' for me."

I hung up, feeling like I always felt by the end of the day on February 26: hopeful.

***  
My 1997 Acura Integra has been through it all. In fact, without that car, I wouldn't have made it to Manchester; wouldn't have worked on the campaign; and most certainly would not have met Josh Lyman. I take care of my car better than myself, so when the mechanic told me that I needed a new radiator hose and brake pads, I listened.

What I hadn't realized when I dropped my car off for service was that I had no groceries in my apartment. I usually go to the market every other Sunday. With my car in the shop for two full days, I would miss my chance to do my grocery shopping. Since I didn't get home from work until well after 9 p.m. every night, there was no way I could make it to the store during the week.

I could've taken the bus, but it was snowing outside, and I would have to transfer twice. I decided that I was willing to survive on take-out and the two cans of soup in my cupboard. I think I had some rice and a can of corn in there as well. My refrigerator was stocked with cranberry juice, two vanilla pudding cups and an orange.

On February 26, there was nothing I'd rather do than veg out in my living room with a gallon of ice cream and an old movie. In fact, I'd rented The Philadelphia Story the other day. This was the first time I wouldn't see Josh on our anniversary. Frankly, I was fine with it. If I didn't see him, I figured, there was no chance we'd do something that we'd regret.

Then he called.

"I'm locked out of my condo, Donna, and it's freezing outside."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you have a spare key?"

"You have my spare key."

"You didn't hide one under a plant or something?"

"Do I look like the type of person who has plants?"

That was a valid point. Josh had an ivy once. It died within the first week.

"Doesn't someone else have a key?"

"No." I could hear him walking.

"I don't have a car, Joshua." I looked out of the window. The snow was falling pretty heavily. "And don't even think about coming over here right now."

"You're the only one with the means to let me into my home, Donna." His car engine started. "Why don't you have a car?"

"We went over this yesterday." I huffed. "I knew you weren't paying attention." 

I'd informed Josh about my much needed car repairs, but he'd been too busy staring at my bare feet to comment. I'd gotten my shoes soaked in the melted snow, so I was forced to remove all of my footwear. I was glad that I'd painted my toenails a couple of days before.

"Remind me," he said.

"It's in the shop." I turned my thermostat higher. "What are you doing out in this weather anyway?"

"It's just a little snow."

"It's actually a lot of snow, Josh." I flipped on the television to see if NBC was still showing the weather alert ticker. "It's on TV. We're expecting another two inches today."

"What's two inches?" I could hear him smiling. "The sooner I get my key, the sooner I'll be home."

He had a point there. "Fine, but you're not staying."

He laughed a little, then hung up.

*  
"Hi," Josh said, wiping his feet on my mat.

I held his key between my thumb and index finger and smiled. "Here you go."

"You're not even gonna let me in?" He looked surprised.

"I'll make a deal with you." I crossed my arms. "Take me to the grocery store, then I'll let you come in."

He put his hand flat against the door. "Didn't you just tell me not to drive in this weather?"

I peeked my head around the corner, trying to look outside. "It doesn't seem as blustery now."

"You have to go to the store that badly?"

I nodded. 

He sighed. "Fine."

I grabbed my coat, purse and grocery list and followed Josh to his car.

While nothing beat Josh in his Levis, he looked quite nice in his black Adidas sweats. His hair was all over the place, and his cheeks were wind burned. It looked like he'd gone running.

When we arrived at the grocery store, I made Josh get the frozen food on my list (I was too cold to go near the freezer section,) while I picked out fruit, bread and canned goods. After about 20 minutes, my shopping cart was full. 

Josh had two items in his hands – a six pack of beer and a bag of frozen mangos.

"I love these things," he said, holding up the mangos. "They don't carry them at my grocery store."

"Josh, you're supposed to be getting Lean Cuisines and Hot Pockets, not beer and frozen fruit!"

"Hey, I'm doing you a favor here."

"Give me that." I grabbed the frozen mangos, threw them in my cart and went in search of the remaining items on my list.

Josh was on my heels. "I was getting to the list, Donna, but the green bottles caught my eye."

"The beer is three aisles away, Joshua." I raised my eyebrows at him, but he seemed unaffected.

He pushed me aside and maneuvered the shopping cart. I grabbed the food I needed, then turned the cart around from the front.

"Yeah, but I figured you'd need some."

When I looked up, Josh was smirking. I considered throwing him in with the frozen pizzas.

While I was busy choosing what brand of gum to buy, Josh paid for my groceries. I admonished him, but he insisted. Of course, he'd purchased at least ten items that weren't on my list, so he did owe me.

*  
The snow had nearly stopped falling by the time we made it back to my place. Josh parked the car and stopped the engine.

"I don't think you should come upstairs." I lowered my head.

"What?"

"It's probably not a good idea." I fidgeted with my purse strap.

"How are you going to carry seven bags of groceries upstairs by yourself?" 

I almost thanked him for trying levity.

"You know what I mean." I looked in his eyes.

"I really don't," he said.

"Today is our, um--"

"I know what today is, Donna." He hit his hand on the steering wheel and looked out of the windshield.

"I don't think we should go upstairs."

"You think I'm going to try something on you? Donna, that's ridiculous."

"It's not you I'm afraid of." I lowered my head again.

"Hang on." Josh started the engine and nearly peeled out.

"Josh! Where are you going?" I turned around and watched my apartment building fade into the distance. "Where the hell are you taking me?"

He didn't respond. Instead, he pulled into a parking spot about six blocks away. The spot overlooked the park where, years ago, Josh handed Cliff Calley my diary. The fountain was still running, despite the frigid temperature, and the ground was covered in snow.

I had mixed emotions about this park. On the one hand, it reminded me of a lie I told that I wanted so desperately to forget. It also reminded me of a man I wanted to erase from my memory. On the other hand, it reminded me of the length Josh would go through to protect me.

"Why are we here?"

He unbuckled his seatbelt. "We're never alone on this day." He shrugged. "I just want to spend some time with you without it having to be a big thing."

"It's not a big thing, Josh, I just--"

"Then have a beer with me." He reached into the back seat and pulled out two Heinekens. "If it's not a big deal, sit in this car and drink a beer with me."

"What if a cop comes by? What if we get busted?"

Josh put a finger on my lips. "We're sitting in a parked car at 5:30 on a Sunday afternoon in one of the nicest areas of DC. I seriously doubt we're gonna get busted."

He opened a beer and handed it to me, then opened the other one for himself. "To February 26."

I couldn't come up with a sufficient reason why we shouldn't be doing what we were doing, so I drank.

When we opened our second beer, Josh had turned the engine on and off five times to ensure that the car was well-heated. He told me a story about Toby and the twins that had me in stitches.

"You should've seen the precision with which Toby had each of them balanced on his knees." Josh had trouble telling the story through laughter. "All of a sudden, Toby falls backwards, hitting his head on the end table. The twins fall on each side of him. Toby scurries around to see if the kids are all right, and they're on their knees giggling!"

I was laughing so hard that I used one hand to grab my stomach and the other to grab Josh's wrist to make him stop. When we both got our breathing under control, I watched Josh's expression change as my grip loosened on his wrist. He clenched his jaw.

As I was about to release him, Josh turned his arm, facing his palm up. He looked at me with a hint of a smile. I slowly moved my fingertips across his wrist, over his palm and into his fingers. He didn't close his hand at first. Instead, he allowed me to run my fingertips along the length of his hand. When he finally grabbed my hand, our eyes locked.

"Josh, this isn't--"

"Don't say it." He lifted his other hand to silence me. "Whatever it is you're going to say, don't."

"I was just going to point out that--"

"I know what you're going to point out, Donna."

"You really don't."

Josh lowered his head.

"There's one day every year when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, Josh. This one day." I squeezed his hand. "What kind of world do we live in where this is wrong? Where I have to hope that whatever we share on this day is going to be enough to last a year?" I watched Josh's breathing increase, then I looked at our joined hands.

"It'll never be enough," he whispered.

My lips were on his within seconds. There was nothing romantic or graceful about this kiss. It was hard and quick. When I pulled back, Josh looked stunned.

"Let me try that again," I said.

This time, I released Josh's hand and cupped his face before returning my mouth to his. I nipped at his bottom lip, then the corner of his mouth. Finally, I covered his mouth with little, wet kisses. I felt the tension in Josh's body slip away. 

Being a big fan of control, Josh tilted his head and took over. His hands stretched slowly down my hair and onto my back. It didn't take long before his tongue begged for entrance. It took far less time for me to allow it.

I wasn't sure if I was the first to moan. There were guttural sounds coming from both of us. My attention was fully focused on Josh's mouth. I remembered in an instant how he tasted. I remembered how his lips were surprisingly thick. I remembered the way that our mouths created "positions:" his lower lip hooked under mine. The inside of Josh's mouth was softer than that of any man I'd ever kissed. It felt tender and gentle, even when he kissed me passionately. He applied just the right amount of pressure, closing and nipping at my tongue and lips. His head changed angles several times, giving me access to his entire mouth. It also allowed my hands to travel down his cheeks and around his neck.

When we broke the kiss, I put my hands back on his face, caressing his dimples with my thumbs. Josh covered my wrists with his hands. He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on my lips.

"This is the hard part," he said.

"What is?" I was busy concentrating on the little circles he was making with his thumbs on the inside of my wrists.

"Letting go."

I blushed and looked away.

He put two fingers under my chin, turning my head to face him. I could tell by his eyes that he wanted to say more. Instead, he opened his mouth to kiss me again. His lips quivered at first, but I took them into my mouth, massaging them with my tongue. 

It had always been difficult letting Josh go, but it never seemed so hard as it did that day. We still had another two years before we could even consider being together. Even then, there were no guarantees.


End file.
